


My Trophy

by Winchester_with_Wings



Category: Real Person Fiction, The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash (TV 2014) RPF
Genre: DO NOT COPY, DO NOT REPLICATE, Do Not Translate, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, RPF, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Smut, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-15
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-15 06:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7212277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winchester_with_Wings/pseuds/Winchester_with_Wings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[At some point I was mulling over the idea of Grant Gustin smut] Anon sent me this request: “you could do where Grant or you wins an award and you get your "reward” that night?
            </p></blockquote>





	My Trophy

**Author's Note:**

> First ever Grant Gustin fic. Lemme know what ya’ll think! I didn’t use to think I’d write actor fics but Grant seems pretty similar to Barry so it was easy to write.

The afterparty following the Teen Choice Awards was actually not at all for teenagers.

You and Grant stumble into your shared apartment; the champagne has made you giggly and you almost trip over yourself but Grant catches you. You loop your arms around his neck when he’s got you on your feet and backing you into the living room. You press a kiss to his lips.

“So proud of you,” you whisper, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“It’s just a silly trophy,” Grant shrugs. He sits you on the couch and helps you take off your heels. You roll your eyes and give him a skeptical look.

“You worked hard for that trophy. All those hours filming. You earned it, Grant. It’s okay to be excited and proud.”

“We both earned it. I know the hours weren’t easy.”

“But I have you now. For at least a month or two. I fully intend to make the most of it. If I earned any trophy, it’s you and I plan to take my reward,” you say wrapping your arms around his neck. “I’ll accept my award every day.”

“And what’s your acceptance speech gonna sound like?” Grant snorts.

“Oh I don’t know. Probably: _oh god, oh yes, ohh my god, yes! Grant! Right there!”_ you pant and moan, undoing his tie. Grant can’t stand just hearing those words. They’re not real enough, though you sound pretty convincing if you say so yourself.

He growls and looks like he’s about to pick you up so you jump over the back of the couch and run into the bedroom. Grant haphazardly sets down his trophy on the counter and chases after you.

You scurry on to the bed, thinking you can hide under the covers but Grant grabs your ankle and pulls you back down the bed. He rolls you over and you squeal and squirm as he climbs on top of you.

He straddles you and pins down your arms. You buck your hips but Grant’s weight on top of you keeps you still. He leans down and drags his lips across your collarbone and up your throat. His teeth graze your earlobe.

“I think it’s time for you to accept your award, Y/N, right now.”

In a frenzy of giggles and wrinkled clothing, Grant and you shed your clothes and roll around on the bed. Grant ends up on top again. You like it that way, at first.

Grant’s glasses keep getting in the way though. He takes them off and puts them on the nightstand. He can see you just fine when he’s this close to you.

The buzz from the alcohol earlier tonight has broken down your inhibitions, allowing yourself to become aroused much faster. You’re soaking wet between your legs before Grant even touches you there. It only takes him kissing and touching every inch of your naked body to do that.

His hands run up and down your legs, his fingers massaging your thighs. His mouth is paying special attention to your breasts, kissing, biting, sucking on your soft skin and peaked nipples. His lips trail down your stomach and that’s when his fingers graze your dripping folds. He moans and rubs your clit in slow circles.

“You’re so fucking wet already, babe,” he growls. He inches his whole body down the bed, his perfect and perky ass sticking up in the air slightly, accommodating and adjusting his hard cock against the bed. He starts to rut against the mattress as his fingers dip into your entrance and his lips wrap around your throbbing clit.

He curls his fingers just how you like it, stroking your g-spot. He groans again and it makes his lips vibrate against your clit. You cry out, your hand flying to his head to tangle in his hair and hold him down there as your hips buck and grind down on his mouth and finger.

“Oh my god! Ohh…hmmm…shit!” Your legs are trembling uncontrollably. “Fuck, Grant! Oh my god, right there. I’m gonna…I’m gonna come!”

Grant laps at your juices as you climax. He pulls out his fingers and sucks on them and then presses a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh. He crawls up your body, his cock bobbing between your bodies and dripping pre-cum.

He reaches across you to grab a condom from the nightstand. You slide it onto him with trembling fingers. Your breathing is ragged, your body tingling from your orgasm. Grant pushes into your slick entrance slowly. He bottoms out and you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. He chuckles, always slightly smug and loving the look on your face when he’s inside you.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he murmurs. He leans in and kisses you with his swollen pink lips. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it turns you on even more, your back arching into his body and your hands grabbing his ass.

“Mmhmm,” you finally answer him with the hope that he’ll start moving. He pumps in and out of you at an agonizingly slow pace, each time almost pulling out all the way. It’s when just the tip of his head is at your entrance that you bite your bottom lip and the look you give him is enough for him to drive into you. He goes as deep as he can. His hips slap against the back of your thighs. He sits back on his knees, his hands finding purchase on your breast.

“Unmph,” he grunts as he thrusts into you faster and faster. His hips starts to stutter, and his pace slows. Each thrust tightens his abdomen and you love to reach up and run your fingers down his chest and over the ridges of his abs.

“You look so fucking sexy. I love looking up at you like this,” you whisper. Grant laughs. He knows you’re a classic sucker for missionary for this very reason. He knows you like the weight of his body over yours, how you love the feeling of his face buried in the crook of your neck as he hooks his arms under your thighs and raises your hips. He loves the angle he gets when he does that too. But he also loves it when you’re on top.

He leans forward and rolls over, taking you with him so that you’re the one straddling him and he’s the one looking up at you.

“Your tits look awesome from down here,” he chuckles, reaching up to cup one of them.

“Yeah?” you start to ride him, lifting your hips and then grinding back down. You tangle your hands in your own hair, messing it up and giving him a bedroom stare. You bite your lip again. “You like it when my tits bounce?” Riding him is rolling your whole upper body, accentuating every single curve Grant loves to touch. His hands on your hips makes you stay raised. And then he’s thrusts up into you, hitting you hard and deep. Your breasts bounce up and down with the force and Grant breathes a breathy chuckle.

“Fuck, yeah I do,” he growls. “You’re so fucking beautiful. All mine,” he hisses as his movements start to become languid and deep. He wraps his arms around you waist and pulls you into his chest. One hand moves to your ass, guiding you back and forth on his cock. “I wanna come, baby,” he whimpers, straining like he’s holding back. He nips at your neck. You lean in near his ear and whisper.

“Then come for me, Grant. Come inside me.”

Yeah, he’s wearing a condom, but the idea of coming inside you turns you both on so much.

Your words send Grant over the edge and kick him into overdrive, pushing up into you at a relentless pace. The way in which he’s still holding you to his chest curves his thrusts, hitting your g-spot again. You come, your fingers and toes curling while you’re pushing yourself back onto him. He comes along with you, throwing his head back against the pillow.

“Mmmpphh, fuckkk,” he groans, his hips still twitching. You let your full weight press into him, laying your head on his shoulder. He runs his hands up and down your back but it’s hard when you’re both so sweaty.

He rolls you over once more, pulling out of you. All of his cum is trapped in the condom as it should be but your juices all over him too.

“Did that feel good baby?” He runs his hand up your thigh and you giggle.

“I’d like to thank the academy…” you start to laugh, pressing a hand to your chest, “it’s been an absolute pleasure…I’d like to thank my boyfriend, Grant Gustin, most of all…he’s the best co-star I could’ve ever asked for…” You pretend to start crying, waving a hand in front of your face and Grant busts out laughing.

He’s walking around the bedroom stark naked, save for the condom. He takes it off and throws it away in the bedroom.

“The pleasure was all mine, Madam!” he goofs off and bows.

“Where are you going?” you ask as Grant heads for the kitchen.

“Watta! I need some watta!” he said in a silly voice. You stay in bed, snuggling a pillow while you listen to Grant open a cabinet, grab a glass, fill it with ice and get water from the fridge, and then…

_Crash!_

“Shit!”

“Grant?! What happened?” You run out into the kitchen but his arm hooks around your waist to stop you from running into a pile of crushed glass. “Oh no!” you lament, “Oh Grant! I’m so sorry!”

His trophy, which had evidently been precariously perched on the edge of the counter had fallen as Grant walked past; a chuck of it had broken off and shattered.

“Do you think they can fix it?” you ask, referring to the award show and the people who’d engraved and handed out the winning awards. Grant shrugs.

“Probably,” he nods. He hands you the glass of water in his hand. “I’ll clean this up. You go back into the bedroom, Babe.”

“I’m sorry,” you say again, frowning.

“It’s okay, it’s okay” he reassures you, pecking you on the lips. “Besides, _you’re_ my real trophy


End file.
